Hate. This is all I feel. I can feel it flow through me. No no...not flow....it surges through me. Hate This by Grendel is on repeat because it reflects my exact feelings. I feel like the bit in Fight Club where they talk about smothering every french beach he knew he would never see and putting a bullet inbetween the eyes of every panda that wouldn't screw to save it's species and finally... "I felt like destroying something beautiful".. It drops on me like a bomb out of no where. Some small minuscule annoyance or ANYTHING and BOOM!

I feel nothing but pure, barely controlled, raging, surging, blind mother fucking HATE. As the song mentioned above says...You think you know about hate!?! YOU THINK YOU KNOW ABOUT HATE MOTHER FUCKER?!?!

I am a wreck. The nuclear winter that follows this bombshell of hate is a somber one. A reflective and morose introspection into why this happened.

I'm scared. I'm scared one day I will really do some fucking damage. Most likely to the one I love the most. I could not live with myself..I can't live with myself now. I want a bullet in my head to be completely honest. I tear up at nothing, and swing and lash out at even less, followed by more crying for seemingly no reason. Jesus Christ. Bipolar is nothing more than a intense version of PMS for the masses. I cannot think clear... I cannot think at all really. When there is this much hate pent up in you...such an urge to be so violent..to destroy something...to create chaos.....there is nothing else. nothing else exists when you feel like this. I write this just moments after the fact..i can still feel some in me..but most has left and i now feel more akin to an empty shell than anything. I do not feel human, i do not feel like an asshole or jackass as I often do...i feel empty, as if the only thing filling me was hate..or at least whatever else was in me left when the hate did.

i go see the doc soon. debating whether or not to mention this little outburst. or my thoughts of suicide or increasing interest in anarchy and nihilism.

ironically, the only thing keeping me alive, really, is the only person I'm afraid of harming and the only person capable of truly setting me off to my full potential. life is full of irony.

i really have no idea why i am even writing this although it says something about my state of mind that as soon as I take off my skullcandy headphones and hear half a sentence of what is going on around me, i am instantly disgusted and completely repulsed and annoyed and put them back on. maybe im just doing this so that i relax a little..get it out in a sense. maybe so someone may find it and give me some tips or at least relate...maybe just so i can read it later and reflect.

life is hard when you hate the living. even harder when you, yourself are alive..fuck it.

Negative Consequences: We have no more peanut butter.

Positive Reinforcements: It was some good goddamn peanut butter.

Conclusion: Pack a couple more tonight and buy a pizza.

This will mostly be ramblings that don't coincide with one another and jump topic to topic... but I have come to the conclusion I can no longer tolerate those around me. That old "does not play well with others" stigma is making a fighting comeback from elementary, and he's making up for lost time. I have often been tolerant to others and their beliefs and practices because this is a country where people should be without persecution (please note I have often done the opposite depending on their level of ignorance). The time has now come that I no longer think this way.

All the things I never said because I was too polite or my beliefs told me to let them live their own lives... all the things I thought but never said because it would start a fight. Yeah... fuck it, I'm there. All my "pet peeves" all my opinions, no matter how pig headed, ignorant, or cruel they may seem to others, will now be flown in their full colors, with pride I might add. I can no longer live peacefully with the sheer ignorance, stupidity, and intolerance (ironic and hypocritical as that is) that surrounds me. Deep down I am just as ugly as the rest of the world. In fact, I'd bet that I'm probably worse... I just no longer feel the need to control myself. I have heard it said we hate most in others what we hate in ourselves. I'm beginning to think this is true.

That all being said, let me just say... Fuck Censorship. Let me swear in my blog, let the porn industry rain down on the children, it is the parents job to shield if they wish, let the brain matter dance across your screens. Fuck Suburbia with their flaming ideals and Utopian sense of life and all it's overly sensitive and protective parents reading their scripted guides on how to raise kids, I am proof it doesn't work. Fuck their kids with the silver spoon implanted firmly in their asses at birth, sitting in front of a 72" plasma being systematically desensitized to the world. To Hell with all established Government and Religion. Bar the doors and burn the White House. Make markers to see how far a burning zombie can run then pick them off from 400 yards. Run over the churches, the mosques, synagogs and temples. Let the religious texts be little more than story books with hints of useful morals. No more will I tolerate their ignorance and persecution, so I shall retaliate with a brand of my own. I fully embrace my hypocrisy, intolerance, and disgust. I discriminate those who discriminate. I persecute the persecutors. The difference is, I'm fucked up enough to do what they won't when push comes to shove. Those dictators in the past who tried eradicating religion by the slaughter of millions of their own people had the right idea but wrong tactics and were horribly wrong. You cannot kill Religious Zealotry just as you cannot kill Greed, Ignorance, Hatred, Superstition, or well..Human Nature, nor does this necessarily call for killing (at least to that degree). And look now, what have they accomplished? NOTHING! Genocides can happen and NOTHING WILL CHANGE. You get a pat on the back and a kiss on your boo boo's for surviving and a nice fucking memorial. Whoopty fuckin' do. Nothing changes. Call me Fascist, call me closed minded, sadistic, inhumane... whatever, these are just words. No one wants to see that our country, our WORLD needs a complete revolution. F5 that shit! Refresh it! Because I cannot live in a world as ignorant and blind as this. Suicide would accomplish nothing and is just stupid and I wouldn't be able to bring enough people with me to make it matter anyway so that option is out.

People are incredible..really. Basing everything on what they see on TV read in their Newspapers, Bibles, Korans, Scripts, Constitutions... take your pick. Believe what you like, doesn't mean it's right, and neither is what I am saying for that matter. I'm no better. I just cannot stand this shit anymore. Suicidal people. Do something about your problems. If it is mental, seek help. If it is for some other reason, join the military and take high risk assignments, do mission work in the worst areas, make yourself useful while you can. I can say this as I used to be quite suicidal...shit, living around here keeps me in a pretty constant state. Also, what the hell is a "suicide survivor"?? You do not survive suicide. You succeed or fail. Simple as that. If you tried and are reading this, you failed. Add it to the list. If missions aren't your thing and your dead set on it, take out as many prominent Republican Party members as possible and then yourself. Maybe you'll get a cool memorial or documentary for it. Maybe Combichrist will edit their song God Bless and put your name in next to Timothy McVeigh.

Speaking of Republicans... Let people get abortions! Shit, hand out coupons at High Schools for them, we are overpopulating and your children are only precious to you...this is why they are YOUR children. Life is not a precious commodity, however it is a renewable one. If morals were out of the way, and it was sold as a product, it would be cheaper than gas. Do stem cell research. Prevent diseases. I don't care if people like me most likely would be weeded out before we are born, I would have preferred it. Guns, Republicans at least didn't fuck up that up. Amazing they did something right. Overall they just kinda suck. I'm getting too tired to go into every detail, if you don't know then you either are one or don't care...the latter of which is ok as I assume you would then be more of a civil disobedience type. I used to be, but am now thinking of cutting the "civil" part off.

I wonder if this will pop up somewhere in Washington with all the keywords. White House, Koran, Washington, Pick off, Timothy McVeigh. I'd laugh.

Well, it would seem that now I am just rambling. I don't even remember what else I was going to include but this kinda sums it up. Don't feel much better but while writing this I do believe I have just compiled the worlds greatest collection of Industrial Techno ever put on a single play list. For those who went to see The Collector (a truly fucked up movie, makes Hostel and Saw look like The Lion King) the opening song is on it. Put it this way, if a school shooting were to have a soundtrack, this would be it. Oh darn, there goes another possible keyword for Big Brother. Stupid fucking Patriot Act.

Night Folks.

Oh, and if you can. Stop being polite to people. If they are stupid, inform them. If I am, inform me. Get right up in everyone's hostile little faces. Throw a molotov, start a fight, SHAKE THINGS UP!




That is all.

Just close your eyes
      Forget your name
                 Forget the world
                            Forget the people

                                            Just close your eyes
                                                          Forget your name
                                                                      Forget the world
                                                                                      Now go insane

This is a short story that I randomy had an idea for. First one I've ever written and I wrote the second half during a movie and was getting tired so be gentle. This is just writing for writings sake.


A smooth breeze brushed the back of his head, combing his hair and taking with it the days trials and troubles that often found their home weighted down atop this shoulders. The tension dripped off and fell into the wind almost as fluidly and elegantly as his sweat as the day was quite warm. This was welcomed with open arms as tensions had risen rapidly over the past couple weeks which brings us here. To this bench. The bench seemed like as good of a spot as any to sit, to ponder... to escape. The serenity of the area was unparalleled. Crotch rockets revved their engines and flew off into the evening like bullets being spewed over the concrete terrain while the steady buzz of air conditioners created an ambient background noise. A football team was grunting off in the distance, like a pack of rams colliding for dominance in a never ending battle, perpetuated by their malevolent leader. To most, this scene would seem of everyday life or even an irritation but to the boy, this was peace.

Questions of life began to swirl through his head as they often had, though given the placid yet busy surroundings, not quite to the chaotic degree he had became so accustomed too in those scarlet eyed early morning hours. Upon his pondering, he had noticed what felt like raindrops on his legs. How could this be?, he thought. There isn't a cloud in sight and the ground is.. and at that very moment he looked to the ground and noticed it covered at least an inch deep in water. The water kept rising as if there was a tide coming in from all directions, his bench being the central destination. Water. It kept crashing in on the bench and the boys legs until it had completely consumed the landscape and it seemed as though the boy would be lost at sea until finally, he crashed into a sandy beach. Upon further analysis, the boy came to the conclusion that this was no ordinary beach. The beach had no sand but instead a brilliant white ivory surface that shimmered in the sun the way a diamond would on the ring finger of a new bride. After walking for some time, there came a tree line of sorts but there were no trees. No, the boy hadn't an idea of what these slender black poles could be but thought it wise of him to climb up for a better look at the area. What came next, no one could have prepared themselves for.

Half way up one of the poles, the boy could see the ivory coast line surrounding the sapphire ocean that had engulfed the area and more importantly, his bench, but there was something further out, something he hadn't seen. There, right at the center of the ocean, was a black hole. A whirlpool?, he wondered. NO!, he exclaimed. He knew where he had seen this before. A macro photograph of a human eye... he was in an eye, but how was this possible? No later did this revelation come about that a huge movement in the pole, or eyelash rather, that he was climbing caused him to fall what seemed like stories into the ocean...erm, Iris.

A force then began pulling him. Calling to his body yet little known to the mind. The only time he had ever felt such a sensation was while being pulled into, and becoming "one" with a couch among home furnishings under the influence of psychedelics. This, however, was something new, something much stronger. He entered what he had thought to be a whirlpool in same manner a plane breaks the sound barrier, with incredible force, and all at once he was spinning, spinning, spinning.

When everything slowed down, he was sitting in a chair, dry, watching the dryer... spinning, spinning, spinning. Then suddenly, he was fully alert. What just happened?! Where am I?! He looked around. Posters, flyers, chunks of wall missing and gang signs carved into the chairs. Pitchforks, crowns, pitchforks turned into crowns, the Star of David. He knew it at once.

He turned around slowly, knowing in the back of his mind what he'd find. Sure enough, there she was. In fact, there they were. He recognized the laundry mat, a desolate and run down building that was the site of one of their first run in's with poverty. They had come here to discuss things while doing a copious amount of laundry. It was the milestone in their relationship. Their first real struggle, their first taste of what was about to come.

As the boy watched the two, reminiscing on the moment they shared there in the laundry mat that day, he smiled. He had never loved anyone the way he loved her and never would because nothing else mattered when he was with her. Just at this moment the dryer flew open. Clothes began flying out of the dryer and covering the walls and the people until nothing was visible. All that was visible to anyone was blackness... and all was silent.

A furious scream broke the silence, followed by the sound of glass exploding against a wall. The boy awoke in a pile of clothes, his room hadn't been cleaned in weeks. Running out into the living he saw a familiar scene. Mom and Dad duking it out and he was just in time for round 3. Words were exhanged as were attatcks, wedding dishes were thrown, fingers broken, and bathrooms destroyed. The boy longed for the ghetto laundry mat, even if he was completely broke... he was happy. He had remembered all that had happened in this house. The divorce was coming soon. He sat trasparent, watching the fight unfold, emotions pulling the strings on the marionettes. This was not a day he wanted to revisit. This was not a period he wanted to visit. He walked out of the room. He had seen enough of this. Just as he turned around a hand flew out of no where and struck him across the face. It was like Hiroshima all over again. A bomb was dropped, the aftershock rippled across his face, all lights were out.

The boy slowly got back up, his cheek hurt from the fall but his knee was more scraped up than anything. The fall had been devistating to both his body and his pride. Riding a bike. Such an easy task, yet just out of grasp. The ride had been a glorious one. Immedietly after learning how to ride, he had decided to race. The outcome of which should be quite apparent. He decided, after a little of lemonade and first aid to give it another go. Down the block he flew. Flying... faster than anyone had ever gone before. The jump was small but sure, speed was key in matters such as this. The jump was meters away... it hits. He is flying through the air. Freedom. The kind of freedom slaves felt once freed. The kind of freedom the first aviators and sky divers felt. Gravity. It posed a threat to this freedom, this split second of bliss. Falling. Falling. Falling.

Thud. The floor seems so hard to the boy. Everything so large. Noises and movement are made directly following the fall. It was only a small distance off a cusion but they moved so fast. Things are confusing. He cries. Things go blurry and suddenly he gets tired. Something is put into his mouth. They call it a pacifier. All goes black again.

Light. It burns his eyes. The police officer patroling informs the young man that the area is closed and he must leave the bench. What had happened, he wonders. What's going on?! In an odd way he felt relieved. He remembered some of the bad times and some of the good. There is always going to be the trials and troubles and there will always be the tiny momments of bliss that make them all worth while. He badly needed to remember this, given the nature of the times.Perhaps this was the point of his reverie. Or maybe I just fell asleep.